I went on one of my very rare excursions out by myself last Sunday (seriously rare--I'd ballpark the number of times I've tread outside the path from the dorms to campus and in between classes by myself, as in completely unaccompanied, in the single digits and that was at the end of Week Three) walking around the island that my dorm is on. The Nile flows around the neighborhood-sized island, called Zamaalek, which houses a large number of embassies and classy, international places like that, so it's predominently upscale and definitely safe. One of the other dorms is called Kenzy, and a friend of mine who lives there says she likes that it's in a grittier neighborhood than Zamaalek because it seems more like the real Egypt instead of the sterilized, internationalized Egypt. However, I guess because this is the third world (whatever that means), you've got the very poor mixed in with the very rich. So getting off the beaten path in Zamaalek reveals a much different view than I'm used to. Actually getting off the beaten path is pretty easy, considering that the AUC shuttle picks us up at the library on campus and drops us at the door of the dorm. Furthermore, my usual walks around Zamaalek (all accompanied, mind you) are either to A.) a nearby street that has a currency exchange, my favorite felafel shop, the Vodafone store, a supermarket, and Cinnabon or B.)mass with the Notre Dame faction here.
But today I walked to 26th of July Street, which is a major street as far as the entire city is concerned, and then I took a winding way back. I ran into shops that are much more practical than luxuious. There were real clothing stores instead of boutiques (whose whole inventory is about 15 shirts and 10 pairs of shoes, period) and grocery stores and snack shops with cheaper wares and fewer brand names that I recognized than at the stores that know they'll get tourists or wealthy students passing by. There wasn't anything too mind blowing, but I could tell the audience was different. It was a little more private, particularly since it was morning. It was a little more mundane, less advertised and flashy. The content wasn't captivating but I liked the slight change in atmosphere.
The walls of the dorm don't seem so thick when you know how close the real world is, and how your fortress is smack dab in the middle of something different from itself.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Some notes on Arabic
My ability to comunicate with non-English speakers here is miniscule, but vastly improved from when I first arrived. Hardly anything I learned in class back home helps, as far as vocabulary goes. I can recognize the letters of the alphabet, which is good, and I've probably got better instincts about grammar. I'm in a colloquial class here and I love it. It's so helpful, and I'm functional in very simple economic transactions like buying a toothbrush or changing money. But I love it--I love learning Arabic, and I know I'm getting better.
I was a little set back this morning about my Arabic. I finally found someone selling American coffee at a kiosk on campus, and I was so excited. It's instant coffee, but it's not as bad as instant coffee in the US, and it's cheap. If you walk into a cafe, you can't just ask for a coffee here, because coffee is much more complex. I have not yet ventured into the vast, spicy land of espresso. When I order "'ahwa americkia," I still have to wait the same amount of time as if they were making me espresso, because "'ahwa americkia" here is a single shot of espresso...plus enough hot water to fill up the rest of the cup. It actually tastes pretty similar, I'm sorry to say. BUT, so, I found this lady on campus with her Nescafe instant coffee, and I tried to ask her if this coffee was available all day long, everyday. I thought that I had constructed a decent sentence, but when I opened my mouth to say it, this horrible, nearly unintelligible accent came out. It was so Englishy that it was not Arabic, and she had no idea what I was saying. Luckily, she managed to communicate that the coffee will always be there for me. And I'm chalking my inability to speak up to the fact that it was early in the morning, and the coffee I was clutching possessively had not yet taken effect.
One of the biggest things that throws me off here is the Egyptian "word" for "yeah." As in English, where "yeah" sounds like a derivative of "yes," the Egyptian transformation from yes to yeah is ايوة (which sounds like Iowa, or more precisely "eye-wa") to او (which sounds like "o"). The part where I get caught up is inflection, because the tone in which you say او is highly reminscent of the way you'd say, "Oh," in an English speaking country when you're surprised. Except there's a very specific, consistent way that people say او here, which is specifically, consistently reminiscent of the way that a native English speaker would say, "Oh," immediately after they've been told, for the first time, some detail that is small but vaguely disappointing. Like if you found out that you had to change your traveller's cheques tomorrow instead of today, but you knew you had enough cash to get through today, then you might respond, "Oh, well then, I guess I'll do it tomorrow." I know this seems small, but this sound has a very clear and singular meaning in the US, and I never realized how such a small detail could make such a difference. But I was completely thrown off when I first heard او in my Arabic class--I would ask the professor a question to double-check some detail, and she would say, "Oh," in such a way, with that slightly descending tone, that I thought she was compassionately surprised by how inaccurate my understanding of the deatil was. But then she would begin to move on with the lesson--I was preparing for her to correct me, and she thought she had just affirmed that I had it right! I think it's for this reason that most of the American students here stick with ايوة.
Successes in Arabic so far include talking a little bit to one of female guards at the dorm, who's younger than me and very sweet and understanding of my inability to speak, and she has enough English to understand me when I have to give up on expressing myself in Arabic. Also, last night in the cab back from school, I managed to talk to our driver a little bit, with a great deal of help from Enas, my roommate. I conveyed on my own to him that I thought Egyptians are great drivers. I didn't try to explain that I think that because I know that Americans driving here would get in so many crashes--people ignore the painted lines on the road because you can fit more cars in a given space that way, and there aren't really traffic lights. I'm much calmer when an Egyptian driver is 3/4 inch away from another driver (no exaggeration) than when I'm in a car with an American driver a foot away from another car. They do it all the time here, and they crash about as often as we do.
I was a little set back this morning about my Arabic. I finally found someone selling American coffee at a kiosk on campus, and I was so excited. It's instant coffee, but it's not as bad as instant coffee in the US, and it's cheap. If you walk into a cafe, you can't just ask for a coffee here, because coffee is much more complex. I have not yet ventured into the vast, spicy land of espresso. When I order "'ahwa americkia," I still have to wait the same amount of time as if they were making me espresso, because "'ahwa americkia" here is a single shot of espresso...plus enough hot water to fill up the rest of the cup. It actually tastes pretty similar, I'm sorry to say. BUT, so, I found this lady on campus with her Nescafe instant coffee, and I tried to ask her if this coffee was available all day long, everyday. I thought that I had constructed a decent sentence, but when I opened my mouth to say it, this horrible, nearly unintelligible accent came out. It was so Englishy that it was not Arabic, and she had no idea what I was saying. Luckily, she managed to communicate that the coffee will always be there for me. And I'm chalking my inability to speak up to the fact that it was early in the morning, and the coffee I was clutching possessively had not yet taken effect.
One of the biggest things that throws me off here is the Egyptian "word" for "yeah." As in English, where "yeah" sounds like a derivative of "yes," the Egyptian transformation from yes to yeah is ايوة (which sounds like Iowa, or more precisely "eye-wa") to او (which sounds like "o"). The part where I get caught up is inflection, because the tone in which you say او is highly reminscent of the way you'd say, "Oh," in an English speaking country when you're surprised. Except there's a very specific, consistent way that people say او here, which is specifically, consistently reminiscent of the way that a native English speaker would say, "Oh," immediately after they've been told, for the first time, some detail that is small but vaguely disappointing. Like if you found out that you had to change your traveller's cheques tomorrow instead of today, but you knew you had enough cash to get through today, then you might respond, "Oh, well then, I guess I'll do it tomorrow." I know this seems small, but this sound has a very clear and singular meaning in the US, and I never realized how such a small detail could make such a difference. But I was completely thrown off when I first heard او in my Arabic class--I would ask the professor a question to double-check some detail, and she would say, "Oh," in such a way, with that slightly descending tone, that I thought she was compassionately surprised by how inaccurate my understanding of the deatil was. But then she would begin to move on with the lesson--I was preparing for her to correct me, and she thought she had just affirmed that I had it right! I think it's for this reason that most of the American students here stick with ايوة.
Successes in Arabic so far include talking a little bit to one of female guards at the dorm, who's younger than me and very sweet and understanding of my inability to speak, and she has enough English to understand me when I have to give up on expressing myself in Arabic. Also, last night in the cab back from school, I managed to talk to our driver a little bit, with a great deal of help from Enas, my roommate. I conveyed on my own to him that I thought Egyptians are great drivers. I didn't try to explain that I think that because I know that Americans driving here would get in so many crashes--people ignore the painted lines on the road because you can fit more cars in a given space that way, and there aren't really traffic lights. I'm much calmer when an Egyptian driver is 3/4 inch away from another driver (no exaggeration) than when I'm in a car with an American driver a foot away from another car. They do it all the time here, and they crash about as often as we do.
People here speak so clearly--even if I don't know any of the words they're saying as they pass me on the street, I can tell exactly where each word stops and the next begins. This is very different from my experiences of native speakers of Spanish, even in Costa Rica where people spoke so slowly and clearly compared to how I hear native speakers of Mexican Spanish in Chicago.
The Egyptian students here are almost universally masters of the English language, including slang and how to curse and other complicated, esoteric uses of my native tongue. However, when they speak to each other, it's in Arabic with only an occassion sprinkling of English. This is good for me learning more Arabic, but socially I'm not quite sure of how to deal with the language barrier. If I'm in a group of only Arabic speakers, I'll sometimes look away from whoever's speaking so as to not make them feel self-conscious about using Arabic which obviously excludes me. I manage to get some of the jokes anyway, but all my meaningful conversations here have so far been with American students. Well, I take that back. My roommate is awesome, and we talk about below-the-surface stuff sometimes. In English, obviously.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Pictures from first 2 weeks!
Okay, so I've been trying to figure out how to best do this picture thing, and since Google apparently has thought of everything that I could ever possibly want to do with the internet, I am using Google's Picasa to put a slideshow of my pictures on the blog. This is the first time I've done this, but my understanding is that you can make my "helpful" comments go away (by hovering over the slideshow with your mouse and then clicking the little green box in the lower left hand corner) and you can click on a picture as it goes by (or pause the slideshow and then click on it) to see it bigger. And without the caption covering the picture. Here goes nothing.
I haven't had the camera out too much, but here are pictures of the neighborhood where my dorm is. The campus is a little ways away, a 5 to 45 minutes drive in the university shuttle bus from the dorm depending on traffic, which should give you an idea of what traffic's like here.
Pictures of campus! Yay!
I haven't had the camera out too much, but here are pictures of the neighborhood where my dorm is. The campus is a little ways away, a 5 to 45 minutes drive in the university shuttle bus from the dorm depending on traffic, which should give you an idea of what traffic's like here.
Pictures of campus! Yay!
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Observations and updates
I know it's been over a week since I've written, but the internet has been down and I've waited until it was less frustrating to try to get online. The problem isn't totally fixed now, but things are going faster.
I've had my first week of classes, and I've eaten more Egyptian food (kufta is amazing! And Tony, I’m looking for better shawarma, but so far it’s been eclipsed by the koshari, fiteer, and falafel sandwiches). I think I was one of several American students who didn't quite connect the dots that this would be like a regular school semester...so I didn't really bring a backpack or a cell phone. In Grinnell, I could get by without using my phone much. Here, in the big city, not so much. So I bought the cheapest phone possible, and I’ve been like a sketchy old man, going around to everyone who I’ve barely met and asking “nimrit telefoonik kam?” (نمرة تلفونك كام؟) I must describe my phone for you, because I love it. It has Arabic and English letters printed on the keys for texting, and it’s not a color phone but it has a color background, which I’m pretty sure is a color transparency in between the light source and the layer that the text appears on, and it looks like a tropical Caribbean isle with a sail boat in the foreground.
Every time something goes wrong here, I’ve been told, “Welcome to Egypt,” which is a phrase I’m getting sick of hearing for multiple reasons. One is that I’d just like to register for classes, please. Another reason is that it’s mostly ex-pats who say this, even students in my own program who’ve only been here as long as I have, and I’m not cool with the idea that people get jaded and decide that the defining characteristic of Egypt is that things don’t work here. I would much rather just be told to have patience. One exception to hearing “Welcome to Egypt” from old, white men is when people will shout it out on the street when they see obvious foreigners, when I'm assuming that's the one phrase they know in English. The other exception I've heard was the response I got when I asked two Egyptian students why trash cans on campus are usually found in pairs, one white and one green, and if the green one was for recycling. It was a mystery to them too.
School stuff
Campus is beautiful, like most of the things I encounter here, and classes have been good so far. There are a couple “campuses” separated by 1-2 blocks from each other. The “Greek” campus (no idea where the name comes from) houses the social sciences buildings and the library, as well as a big quad (bricked, grass isn’t big here) with lots of tables and chairs surrounded by the fortress of the academic buildings and completely divided from the street. This is the major hangout spot. People fill that space all day long, sometimes making it difficult for others to get through the throng of socializers to their social sciences classes. I like the library, although it is devoid of cushy chairs, and all three of us Grinnellians who are here this semester found each other in the library a couple days ago and made sure the others were doing well.
Me-stuff
The nearest Christian church is Catholic, so I’ve been there twice—once for a weekly service and once for Ash Wednesday. I really enjoyed it, and I already feel less ignorant about Catholicism. There’s a big contingent here from Notre Dame (one of whom is named John-Paul, who’s been here a semester already and shows us around sometimes) and so I go to church with them. They keep me straight and tell me when it’s okay to participate as a non-Catholic (e.g. receiving the ashes) and when it’s not (e.g. communion). And you thought my only new religious exposures would be to Islam!
I know I said that I wasn’t going to spend much time with Americans here, but I’ve met some Americans who are really great people and who I already hope to keep in contact with once I get back to the States. I guess you would say that it’s a “self-selecting pool” of study-abroad students because as the president of AUC told us at an orientation address, only 1% of American college students study abroad, and only 1% of those who do will go to the Middle East. And I think he said most of that 1% is at AUC. Additionally, I don’t want to spend time with a certain group of people because of an objectifying characteristic, like, “They’re Egyptian.” I’m getting to know study-abroads and full-time students alike, and I’m enjoying the company of people on both sides. My social strategy remains to force myself upon new people of all persuasions, and it has met with wild success. For example, I met an Egyptian girl in my Architecture class because she made the mistake of making eye contact with me and smiling, so down I sat next to her and by the end of class she was introducing me to her friends.
Arabic stuff
Last week I took a week-long intensive called “Survival Arabic,” which was really helpful. Things like how to order food or talk to cabbies. I’m really glad I took it, and I’m enrolled in an Egyptian Spoken Arabic class for this semester, which is going well too. I really enjoy the dumb language jokes that people learning the basics will make, and the pretend-sketchy conversations we have in class when all we learned on the first day was how to ask someone was if they were married and which floor they live on. You can get by a lot of the time in English. All the students here have to be fluent in English, and some of them know like three other languages in addition to English and Arabic, no exaggeration. Classes are all in English, and many vendors speak English. They like when you speak Arabic, though many don't understand the "universal" formal Arabic that is taught in American college classes. It took me about ten minutes to order flat bread with fig jelly on it the other day, because of the language barrier, but oh, was it worth it. The last day of Survival Arabic, my class of five walked through the streets with our teacher and talked to vendors in Arabic, just asking dumb stuff like, "How much is this?" and "What is the name of this?" Some of the vendors really got into it when they realized that we were learning Arabic, and they would quiz us on the names or colors of the things they were selling.
Egypt stuff
A couple Americans here have commented that the biggest culture shock is the McDonalds, and I think that the presence of stores and products that we can get in the US makes it seem deceptively Western here. Firstly, places that I think of as American or Western, I have heard described here as “international,” which belies a different orientation. Secondly, these restaurants and stores exist in a different context, and mean something culturally different here than they do back home. McDonalds is not a restaurant for rich people in the US, and their target audience may even be the lower economic classes. But in Egypt, if you buy American or “international” food, you pay international prices. I can get 2 falafel sandwiches on the street for 1.75-2LE (Egyptian Pounds), but I pay 20LE, 10 times more, for a McDonalds sandwich, which comes to about four American dollars. Now, given the price of the falafel, how much money do you think the falafel maker is making? He certainly doesn’t waste that money eating at McDonalds. I still feel confused by the mixture things here—there’s so much that I know I don’t understand.
I cover my hair sometimes, if I wake up feeling modest. I’ve heard that people here expect Americans to dress differently from themselves, and maybe not to be as nicely dressed as Egyptians would be at, say, a nice restaurant. Dressing up all the time is a strain for me, but Mom and I limited my wardrobe here to only decent looking clothes. When I cover my hair, I do it bandana-style; I never wrap my scarf under my chin or try to make it look like hijab (called hee-gab here, like “HE has the gift of GAB”) because I don’t want people to wonder if I’m Muslim. I’m not Muslim, and I’m not Egyptian, and that’s obvious because of my skin color and the style of clothes I wear and the way I carry myself. However, while I do my best to be respectful of culture and norms, I have no interest in assimilating. I’m an American in Egypt, and I don’t want to pretend to be otherwise. I’m interested in learning about everything here, and participating as much as possible, but I want people to know that I’m a foreigner, in every possible sense of the word.
Anyway, the variety in how people dress probably makes any style of scarf-tying that I employ ambiguously religious, even if my hair is sticking out. In a place like this where over 50% of women veil, variation is okay, and women will cover their hair in all sorts of different ways. Most of those covered will wrap hijab-style (under the chin, with one corner of the scarf hanging down the back), but even among that group, there are different ways of wrapping a hijab and different cloth and pin accessories that go along. Women in this country are pretty intense about their accessories, and a ton of women have this amazing, creative sense of color. A lot of the American girls feel like they’re dressing like schmucks, particularly on campus where most of our classmates come from very wealthy families. Unlike in Grinnell, there’s no “shabby chic” mentality, unless you count pre-ripped and –faded jeans. I don’t tell kids I meet here about my love for thrift stores; I’m afraid they’ll think I need their aid to stop wearing second-hand clothes. It’s been a little warmer this week, or I’m just acclimatized, but I’ve stopped wearing my long johns…. I do still wear a hoodie at night.
I think it’s true what they say about Egyptian hospitality. I met a girl here named Dena on Wednesday, and she said to let her know whenever I was free and that we would hang out. So on Friday (which is the Sabbath here, remember, and the work week starts on Sunday) we went to “City Stars,” (that’s what they call it in Arabic too, سيتي ستارز) the big mall here, and two American girls I know from the dorms came too. Dena steered us to the food court, and then as soon as I finished ordering, jumped in front of me and said, “Laura, go sit down.” I put up a small argument, but she was not to be deterred from paying for my food. She did the same for the other two, even strong-arming one of them into ordering at all. She was great at hosting us at the mall, and we all just walked around and looked at things.
My roommate moved in finally! She was spending time with her mom, but now she’s here and she’s great. Her name is Enas (sounds a little like Ines) and she’s from Egypt but she grew up in Kuwait. She’s really nice and friendly and we went to dinner (lunch for her) at 4:30 on Thursday on campus. I’ve heard three other Americans talking about bad situations with their non-American roommates, like the person talks too much or too little or is standoffish or asks if they can borrow/have all of the American girl’s stuff, and I have zero complaints about mine and a lot of good to say. Even though she doesn’t go to mosque, she says she’ll take me one of these weeks so I can see and experience Friday prayers. How generous!
Other stuff
Please notice the change in email. Since my AUC email is hosted in Egypt, it’s just easier to access than my Grinnell mail. You can email me for my cell phone number here, if you’d like to call me on your international calling card, since I get free incoming. I’m still trying to figure out an inexpensive way to call the US, because a five minute call will eat most of my minutes on the pay-as-you-go phone (or “mobile” in Egyptian English) that I bought.
Mom has told me to write more tactile descriptions, and I think I’ll try to work on that in my next post, which will be full of pictures. Also, I have a couple small adventures to descibe, including one at the pyramids! Hopefully, as the semester goes on, I'll be able to write more focused (and shorter) entries, but I'm still inundated with new sights and observations, and I think that's what you all are interested in reading at this point as well.
Also for those of you wondering, Chris and I have been together for a year today. I'm smiling.
I've had my first week of classes, and I've eaten more Egyptian food (kufta is amazing! And Tony, I’m looking for better shawarma, but so far it’s been eclipsed by the koshari, fiteer, and falafel sandwiches). I think I was one of several American students who didn't quite connect the dots that this would be like a regular school semester...so I didn't really bring a backpack or a cell phone. In Grinnell, I could get by without using my phone much. Here, in the big city, not so much. So I bought the cheapest phone possible, and I’ve been like a sketchy old man, going around to everyone who I’ve barely met and asking “nimrit telefoonik kam?” (نمرة تلفونك كام؟) I must describe my phone for you, because I love it. It has Arabic and English letters printed on the keys for texting, and it’s not a color phone but it has a color background, which I’m pretty sure is a color transparency in between the light source and the layer that the text appears on, and it looks like a tropical Caribbean isle with a sail boat in the foreground.
Every time something goes wrong here, I’ve been told, “Welcome to Egypt,” which is a phrase I’m getting sick of hearing for multiple reasons. One is that I’d just like to register for classes, please. Another reason is that it’s mostly ex-pats who say this, even students in my own program who’ve only been here as long as I have, and I’m not cool with the idea that people get jaded and decide that the defining characteristic of Egypt is that things don’t work here. I would much rather just be told to have patience. One exception to hearing “Welcome to Egypt” from old, white men is when people will shout it out on the street when they see obvious foreigners, when I'm assuming that's the one phrase they know in English. The other exception I've heard was the response I got when I asked two Egyptian students why trash cans on campus are usually found in pairs, one white and one green, and if the green one was for recycling. It was a mystery to them too.
School stuff
Campus is beautiful, like most of the things I encounter here, and classes have been good so far. There are a couple “campuses” separated by 1-2 blocks from each other. The “Greek” campus (no idea where the name comes from) houses the social sciences buildings and the library, as well as a big quad (bricked, grass isn’t big here) with lots of tables and chairs surrounded by the fortress of the academic buildings and completely divided from the street. This is the major hangout spot. People fill that space all day long, sometimes making it difficult for others to get through the throng of socializers to their social sciences classes. I like the library, although it is devoid of cushy chairs, and all three of us Grinnellians who are here this semester found each other in the library a couple days ago and made sure the others were doing well.
Me-stuff
The nearest Christian church is Catholic, so I’ve been there twice—once for a weekly service and once for Ash Wednesday. I really enjoyed it, and I already feel less ignorant about Catholicism. There’s a big contingent here from Notre Dame (one of whom is named John-Paul, who’s been here a semester already and shows us around sometimes) and so I go to church with them. They keep me straight and tell me when it’s okay to participate as a non-Catholic (e.g. receiving the ashes) and when it’s not (e.g. communion). And you thought my only new religious exposures would be to Islam!
I know I said that I wasn’t going to spend much time with Americans here, but I’ve met some Americans who are really great people and who I already hope to keep in contact with once I get back to the States. I guess you would say that it’s a “self-selecting pool” of study-abroad students because as the president of AUC told us at an orientation address, only 1% of American college students study abroad, and only 1% of those who do will go to the Middle East. And I think he said most of that 1% is at AUC. Additionally, I don’t want to spend time with a certain group of people because of an objectifying characteristic, like, “They’re Egyptian.” I’m getting to know study-abroads and full-time students alike, and I’m enjoying the company of people on both sides. My social strategy remains to force myself upon new people of all persuasions, and it has met with wild success. For example, I met an Egyptian girl in my Architecture class because she made the mistake of making eye contact with me and smiling, so down I sat next to her and by the end of class she was introducing me to her friends.
Arabic stuff
Last week I took a week-long intensive called “Survival Arabic,” which was really helpful. Things like how to order food or talk to cabbies. I’m really glad I took it, and I’m enrolled in an Egyptian Spoken Arabic class for this semester, which is going well too. I really enjoy the dumb language jokes that people learning the basics will make, and the pretend-sketchy conversations we have in class when all we learned on the first day was how to ask someone was if they were married and which floor they live on. You can get by a lot of the time in English. All the students here have to be fluent in English, and some of them know like three other languages in addition to English and Arabic, no exaggeration. Classes are all in English, and many vendors speak English. They like when you speak Arabic, though many don't understand the "universal" formal Arabic that is taught in American college classes. It took me about ten minutes to order flat bread with fig jelly on it the other day, because of the language barrier, but oh, was it worth it. The last day of Survival Arabic, my class of five walked through the streets with our teacher and talked to vendors in Arabic, just asking dumb stuff like, "How much is this?" and "What is the name of this?" Some of the vendors really got into it when they realized that we were learning Arabic, and they would quiz us on the names or colors of the things they were selling.
Egypt stuff
A couple Americans here have commented that the biggest culture shock is the McDonalds, and I think that the presence of stores and products that we can get in the US makes it seem deceptively Western here. Firstly, places that I think of as American or Western, I have heard described here as “international,” which belies a different orientation. Secondly, these restaurants and stores exist in a different context, and mean something culturally different here than they do back home. McDonalds is not a restaurant for rich people in the US, and their target audience may even be the lower economic classes. But in Egypt, if you buy American or “international” food, you pay international prices. I can get 2 falafel sandwiches on the street for 1.75-2LE (Egyptian Pounds), but I pay 20LE, 10 times more, for a McDonalds sandwich, which comes to about four American dollars. Now, given the price of the falafel, how much money do you think the falafel maker is making? He certainly doesn’t waste that money eating at McDonalds. I still feel confused by the mixture things here—there’s so much that I know I don’t understand.
I cover my hair sometimes, if I wake up feeling modest. I’ve heard that people here expect Americans to dress differently from themselves, and maybe not to be as nicely dressed as Egyptians would be at, say, a nice restaurant. Dressing up all the time is a strain for me, but Mom and I limited my wardrobe here to only decent looking clothes. When I cover my hair, I do it bandana-style; I never wrap my scarf under my chin or try to make it look like hijab (called hee-gab here, like “HE has the gift of GAB”) because I don’t want people to wonder if I’m Muslim. I’m not Muslim, and I’m not Egyptian, and that’s obvious because of my skin color and the style of clothes I wear and the way I carry myself. However, while I do my best to be respectful of culture and norms, I have no interest in assimilating. I’m an American in Egypt, and I don’t want to pretend to be otherwise. I’m interested in learning about everything here, and participating as much as possible, but I want people to know that I’m a foreigner, in every possible sense of the word.
Anyway, the variety in how people dress probably makes any style of scarf-tying that I employ ambiguously religious, even if my hair is sticking out. In a place like this where over 50% of women veil, variation is okay, and women will cover their hair in all sorts of different ways. Most of those covered will wrap hijab-style (under the chin, with one corner of the scarf hanging down the back), but even among that group, there are different ways of wrapping a hijab and different cloth and pin accessories that go along. Women in this country are pretty intense about their accessories, and a ton of women have this amazing, creative sense of color. A lot of the American girls feel like they’re dressing like schmucks, particularly on campus where most of our classmates come from very wealthy families. Unlike in Grinnell, there’s no “shabby chic” mentality, unless you count pre-ripped and –faded jeans. I don’t tell kids I meet here about my love for thrift stores; I’m afraid they’ll think I need their aid to stop wearing second-hand clothes. It’s been a little warmer this week, or I’m just acclimatized, but I’ve stopped wearing my long johns…. I do still wear a hoodie at night.
I think it’s true what they say about Egyptian hospitality. I met a girl here named Dena on Wednesday, and she said to let her know whenever I was free and that we would hang out. So on Friday (which is the Sabbath here, remember, and the work week starts on Sunday) we went to “City Stars,” (that’s what they call it in Arabic too, سيتي ستارز) the big mall here, and two American girls I know from the dorms came too. Dena steered us to the food court, and then as soon as I finished ordering, jumped in front of me and said, “Laura, go sit down.” I put up a small argument, but she was not to be deterred from paying for my food. She did the same for the other two, even strong-arming one of them into ordering at all. She was great at hosting us at the mall, and we all just walked around and looked at things.
My roommate moved in finally! She was spending time with her mom, but now she’s here and she’s great. Her name is Enas (sounds a little like Ines) and she’s from Egypt but she grew up in Kuwait. She’s really nice and friendly and we went to dinner (lunch for her) at 4:30 on Thursday on campus. I’ve heard three other Americans talking about bad situations with their non-American roommates, like the person talks too much or too little or is standoffish or asks if they can borrow/have all of the American girl’s stuff, and I have zero complaints about mine and a lot of good to say. Even though she doesn’t go to mosque, she says she’ll take me one of these weeks so I can see and experience Friday prayers. How generous!
Other stuff
Please notice the change in email. Since my AUC email is hosted in Egypt, it’s just easier to access than my Grinnell mail. You can email me for my cell phone number here, if you’d like to call me on your international calling card, since I get free incoming. I’m still trying to figure out an inexpensive way to call the US, because a five minute call will eat most of my minutes on the pay-as-you-go phone (or “mobile” in Egyptian English) that I bought.
Mom has told me to write more tactile descriptions, and I think I’ll try to work on that in my next post, which will be full of pictures. Also, I have a couple small adventures to descibe, including one at the pyramids! Hopefully, as the semester goes on, I'll be able to write more focused (and shorter) entries, but I'm still inundated with new sights and observations, and I think that's what you all are interested in reading at this point as well.
Also for those of you wondering, Chris and I have been together for a year today. I'm smiling.
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